Broken Berlin
by RedWolf95
Summary: GerUK Just after the allies take control of Berlin. will continue through to the destruction of the Berlin Wall. NOT HISTORICALLY ACCURATE! Also posted on my DeviantArt account RedWolfErik
1. Chapter 1

Broken Berlin

Bloodshot eyes stare hauntingly at the once great and imposing building in Berlin. Fires bloom and burn everywhere the sky blue eyes can see. The man's raspy breath, labored by his extensive injuries, creates small clouds of breath in front of his face and, as it unravels itself, blurs his already impaired vision of the semi-destroyed building. He felt a renewed pain in his chest, making him hunch his shoulders and grab at his chest – right where his heart was – like he was trying to stop the pain. Slowly, he took a hesitant step towards the six monumental columns. As he hesitantly walked up the cracked a broken stone steps, surrounded by bomb craters, empty shells and… bodies, he wearily leans his head back causing his blonde hair – that was capped in mud and dried blood – to shift from his pale forehead.

"Dem Deutschen Volke" the blonde murmured under his breath before letting out a pitiful chuckle. He continued to laugh until his body was racked with coughing fit after coughing fit. Falling to the stone on his knees – probably bruising the already abused joints - he hunched over, wheezing. Minutes, which seemed like hours to the solitary man, his coughs subsided. He made to stand up once again, but his legs couldn't hold his weight.

"… Pitiful" He looks himself up and down. Once clean, crisp Waffen-SS uniform was now just a shadow of what it used to be. Blood. His or others… he doesn't know. His black jack boots, which he shined to perfection – are now scuffed, dried blood clinging to the peeling sole and leather. Matching jacket and trousers that were, once upon a time, ironed and clean now hang onto the mans body ripped to ribbons, blood soaking through and singed at the cuffs, neck and seems. Feeling something trickle down one side of his face, he moves a shaking hand to wipe the unknown substance away, and then retracts the appendage to see scarlet fluid dripping off his long, thin fingers and onto the palm. His eyes widen as he sees his own blood. This simple knowledge causes all the pain that the Führer caused in the eleven years of being in power. All the people... both German and of other Nationalities... dead.

"Mein gott!" The memories of shooting the Allies soldiers only hours ago in defense of a corrupt government cause so much guilt to flood his veins and very soul he never realized that he had finally broken down. Not even when his body was shaken by heart-wrenching sobs.

The poor man stayed like this from when the moon was high in the sky, throughout the night and into the following day.

Hours after he finally broke down, the blonde German was still in the exact place. The tears had stopped. In his head, the outside world was mute. Like a mantra in his head, he kept repeating 'It's all my fault… it's all my fault'

Soft footsteps stumbled to a halt at the sight before their owner. Acidic green eyes widened as unusually large eyebrows shot towards the man's hairline. No matter how heartless and cruel this green eyed man acted, he would always care – it was who he was. Cautiously, he walked towards the huddled figure on the stone floor in front of the remains of The Reichstag. As he neared the hunched man, he crouched down and, slowly – not wanting to make this man jump – he reached out to place a comforting hand on the German's uninjured shoulder.

No response

"Ludwig?"

No response

"Ludwig?" he softly shook the shoulder under his hand.

No response

"Ludwig? G-Germany?" a pale head gradually appeared from the bundle of bloodied green uniform. Eyes bloodshot and wide, skin waxy, pale and cuts numerous. Ludwig's hair, that the green eyed man had only seen slicked back, clung to his sweaty forehead. Blood oozed down from a particularly deep cut hidden beyond Ludwig's hairline down the left side and even into one eye.

"A-Arthur?" the German shrunk from the other man, obviously frightened. But stopped before he moved more than a few inches because of the hurt in the green eyes of his British friend. Guilt surged back as he noted the stained bandages that were wrapped securely round one of the Brit's arms and peaked out of the green military uniform to circle the man's thin neck.

"Who did you think it would be, idiot" Arthur replied softly, earning him a small smile from the blood covered German. He stands up and holds a hand to Ludwig "Come on, you need to know something. I've already told Prussia to meet us at Brandenburg Gate… You wouldn't want to keep him waiting, would you?" Ludwig stares into Arthur's eyes, contemplating. He sees no deceit in the green eyes, so he reaches out and takes the offered hand.


	2. Chapter 2

Hello! Heres chapter two! Warning... some America and France and Russia bashing.

Salty taste of tears fill my nostrills; irradicating all other smells. Seeping from my nose into my dry mouth like a fog rolling over my tounge and trickling down my throat. I sob. Violently, sending me to the crisp cream carpet that was – until moments ago – under my feet.

As the sobs subside, pale eyelids retrack from their protective positions covering bloodshot and tired eyes. Black pupils shrink almost inhumanly fast as the endless azure orbs are hit with the onslaught of light. Beads of sweat roll down the pale forehead, causing wheat-coloured hair to stick to the cold skin. Anguish on the aryan face as plain as day.

Six other men occupy the large and barren room. On the far left, a small chinese man with long auban hair tied at the nape of his slender neck. He wears a lightly creased green uniform with a red band fastened snugly around the top of his left arm. In his arms he holds a large panda plushie, holding it close to himself. Or though there is a small spark of regret on his face, he looks weary.

Slightly behind the weary man stands a blonde haired frenchman, his normally hansome features clouded with hate. His bright blue coat and cloak clash with fire-red trousers that cling to his legs like a second skin.

Next to the Frenchman – with one arm flung around the latter's shoulders – is an obnoxious American, addorned in his normal attire; plain suit underneith a brown leather jacket. Instead of stuffing his face with "hamburgers", his mouth is upturned into a vile smirk. Hungry for "Justice" to be served.

The forth and final member of the group standing infront of the wheat-haired aryan was tall – the tallest person in the room – and built akin to a strong oak. Violet eyes gleam in childish glee as he stares at the two men leaning against the oposite wall. Dressed in his tan knee-length coat with his many gleaming medels adorning it and his prized scarf made his already broad shoulders even more prominent.

I feel someone fall to the ground beside me and pull me into a bone-crushing hug. Prussia... East Germany, as he will now be called. I turn in his arms and wrap mine around him, trying to stop them from tearing us apart.

"Dude, times up." says the American in his annoying "hero" voice

"It's over when I say it's over Yankie"I growl at him, earning myself a kick from the Frenchman. As he does so, I hear soft "Kolkolkol" from Russia while he pulls my brother away from me like he weighs nothing.

"Don't. No, just give the awesome me more time. Lud! LUD! STAY SAFE!" Gilbert shouts to me as he is dragged from the room.

"Gil! GILLL!" I shout back. I try to follow him, but the American, Frenchman and Chinese man push me back. "Why? WHY BREAK US APART? DON'T YOU EVEN CARE?" I scream into their faces.

"Deal with it" France spits out.

"C'mon, lets go" America murmers to France. They turn to leave.

"China, C'mon leave that Nazi scum" America yells to china, completely ignoring the only other person left in the room apart from China and myself.

"Give it time, you will be reunited with your brother again, aru... I'm sorry." China whispers to me, then follows the other two out of the room, closing the door with a loud "Bang".

"I'm sorry I couldn't do anything to stop them my friend. I tried, I honestly tried, but they wouldn't hear it. They want you to stay crippled, so you can't start another war." I hear a soft voice mingled with a strong british accent woven into every syllable. I turn around to look at the Britain, one of my only friends left, Arthur.

"... It's alright Arthur. There was nothing you could have done. Thank you for trying." I say as I stumble over to him, only to slump by his side.

"America, France and I each have control over a sector of West Germany, but they have given me... custody, over you, per say." I simply nod

"It's better than having to live with the Yank or the Frog. However, I must inist... I'm doing ALL the cooking, ja?"

"Knock yourself out Ludwig" he replies laughing quietly. We sit on the carpet, leaning on the wall, staring at the closed door for near an hour, until Arthur clears his throat.

"We should go soon, we need to get your personal effects, then catch the plane to England. Anyway, you need to rest." I lean my head on his shoulder.

Hope you liked it... please review XD


	3. Chapter 3

Standing in the room of my and Prussia's home - most probably the last time for awhile - remembering all the good times we've had. My eyes are drawn to the ancient grand-father clock between two doors. I remember sitting on Prussia's broad shoulders, as he instructed me how to change the time and how to wind the large clock up. It's as imposing as it was hundreds of years ago. I turn to stare at the elegant staircase. Vividly, I relive the look on Gilbert's face as I walked down those stairs in my very first suit, tugging at the arms nervously. The only way I can describe his face is - proud. Red eyes shining and mouth agape in a large, joyous smile. As I faltered, he pulled me down to his level, then happily announced that he'd teach me to dance.

We've had so many good memories in this old house… I'm miss this place. But, in one respect, I'm glad I'm not living here for awhile; this place isn't the same without my brother. He's the East of my West.

Feeling tears behind my eyes, I quickly tear my eyes away from the staircase, letting them stare at my luggage: laying innocently at my side. Four black, bulky and battered trunks, filled with most of my belongings inside. A strong gust of wind blows through the open door behind me - accompanied by soft whistling.

Slowly, I turn around to face the world beyond the door. Bleak. Most of the fires have finally been put out - by humans or simply burning out, I don't know - leaving the horizon mostly covered by smoke and ash. The chard remains of Berlin can easily be seen, even through the smoke educed fog. Faint sobs can be heard. Widows, children and - in some cases - men, silently grieving for the fall of their precious "Fuhrer" I hear the motor of a car pull closer to where I'm standing. Turning to face the car, I see Arthur jump out of the back, straighten his suit and walk over to me.

"Ready to leave?" he asks cautiously. I simply nod in answer. It takes around half an hour to lift all the trunks into the back of the car. We both hunch over, trying to catch our breath.

"What. Have. You. Got. In. Those. Trunks?" he pants, this makes laugh.

"Come, or we'll be late for our plane" I turn to stare at the now locked house briefly, then jump into the car next to Arthur.


	4. Chapter 4

I stare at my sleeping companion's face. Pale skin stretched over his thin face and hollow cheeks. Long light eyelashes just caress the skin underneath the eye sockets. Raw skin, red as the blood that had dried over the patches, litters his skin not covered by clothes. Wheat hair sticks up in every direction - completely unlike usual - with blood still matted into the once shiny and slicked back locks. Black bags linger underneath his closed eyes. I feel a stirring of guilt creeps up my spine. As the guilt continues to grow, the logical part of my brain kicks in.

'You did what was necessary, stop kicking yourself about it. He… they… needed to be stopped.'

I allow a small sorrow-filled smile as I continue to gaze at the personification of Ger- West Germany. Turning in my seat, I look out of the airplane window. We had already landed at Heathrow.

"Ludwig…" I softly shake the German next to me awake.

"Huh? Wo bin ich?" He murmurs while stretching. As he does so, a pained expression settles on his face, causing me to lean over to him in worry. He waves my look of fear away dismissively. "I'm okay… It's just a little sore" by the look on his face, I know that he's trying to play his pain down. I hold my suspensions down to appease the Aryan.

"Okay… c'mon, get up - You need to get cleaned up and get a good night sleep" I stand up, stretch, then hold my hand out for him to grab. He wearily takes my hand and drags himself up.

Once we leave the plane, and step onto the tarmac. Grey clouds cover the sky from horizon to horizon, giving London it's usual dreariness. Turning to the Aryan, leaning slightly on me, and grab the German's hand that was hanging limply at his side. In turn, he gives my hand a small squeeze, which sends a blush surging to my cheeks.

'Why is this effecting me so much?' Mentally shaking the strain of thought from my head, I gently tug Ludwig to follow me to the black car waiting a few metres away.

"Morning Sir" says my driver and assistant, Harrison.

"Morning Harrison, is my house still standing?" I joke, giving the man a small smile. He's a tall man, mousy blonde spiky hair, grey streaks run through his mop. His hair is mostly covered with a top hat. His angular face, that had lost some of the fat since the last time I saw him. His slightly thinner frame is covered in his usual 3 piece suit, a silver pocket watch - a gift from a few Christmases ago from me - connected to the waistcoat.

"Yes it is, sir. I took the liberty of prepping the staff for your arrival." He starts the engine and drives off the tarmac towards the main road that will take us back to my home.

"Brilliant work as always, Harrison, ol' chap." Our conversation stops here as he focuses on driving, and I look to the blonde slumped next to me. I allow myself a small laugh, as I stare at Germany, who had - yet again - fallen asleep on my shoulder. Softly, I lean my head atop of his and close my eyes, breathing in deeply. He smells of blood, sweat and something I cannot put my finger on… it's addictive.

After around half an hour of moving mere inches at a time in traffic, we finally arrive outside of my home. It's a beautiful red brick, three story house - with white window frames and a wooden door. I check on Germany, who is still asleep on my shoulder.

"Umm… Harrison?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Could you… give me a hand with getting Ludwig into me bed, please?" he turns to look at me incredulously, then simply shrugs his shoulders and jumps out from behind the wheel. Once he opens the door on Germany's side of the car he leans in.

"If I grab his legs, you grab his arms. Is that alright, sir?" I nod and grab his arms tightly.

"3... 2... 1!"

15 minutes of struggling and tripping up stairs and down corridors, we finally get Germany into my bed, tucked in tightly.

"I'll wait for you in your office, sir." once he closes the door, I turn back to look into Ludwig's sleeping face. I lean down closer to him, and peck him on his soft lips. I retract, almost causing me to fall backwards.

Why on earth did I do that?


	5. Chapter 5

In a daze, I retreat from the sleeping Germans room silently. Once I am on the other side of the door in the long corridor, I collapse against the wall adjacent to the now closed door. 'It's way too early for this' I think to myself. Begrudgingly, I remove myself from the cold wooden floor - stumbling slightly - and drag myself to my study. My hand of the door handle, I breathe a shaky breath in a vein attempt to calm my thoughts. I open the door, and see Harrison sat in one of the two plush leather armchairs by the ornate fireplace a leather bound note pad open on his lap. In his hands he holds a cup of tea and a black metal fountain pen.

"I took the liberty of making a pot of tea, I had a feeling that you we're in need of some to wash away the taste of that foreign swill they call tea." he gestures to the oak table situated between the twin chairs. I smile at his antics, then sit in the chair opposite him. While pouring me a cup and handing it to me, he starts to inform me of the recovery efforts while I was on mainland Europe. It takes about half an hour until I'm pacing around my office, barking orders which Harrison writes down in his note pad, nodding in agreement.

"Firstly, we need to make sure that the recovery is kept on schedule, so I need you to call my Boss to arrange a time we can discuss this in person. We also need to start to work out how to re-build West-Germany, not just the British sector but the French and American Sectors also."

"If you don't mind me asking sir, but why isn't France and America looking after their sectors?" I pause at the question. I have been asking this question also, so I try to make an educated guess

"Umm… I guess their minds have been clouded by hate because of the things that Germany caused in the war." I scoff "They are short sighted, if West Germany - especially it's economy - doesn't recover then Europe will fall, followed closely by the rest of the world"

"Is that why you've taken the personification of West-Germany, sir?" I stop my pacing to stare at Harrison shocked by this question.

"H-h-he's my friend. That is why I want to help him." I stutter in response as I feel my face heat up. Looking at me incredulously , he stands up from seat and walks towards me.

"Is that the only reason sir? Or is there something more between the two of you?"

Just as I'm about to answer him, I hear the door open. Both of my whip our heads to face the now open door. In the door way is Germany, hair mussed up and shirtless.

"G-G-Germany? What are you doing up, you idiot! You need sleep." I hurry over to him and start to try to push him back to the room I had put him in.

"Stop fussing England, I'm fine." despite his words, he stumbles and starts to favour his left leg. My shoulders sag.

"No your not, your injured. I'm taking you to the main bathroom so I can treat those wounds." I continue to push him out into the hall and towards the bathroom. "Your dismissed Harrison" I shout to him as I leave "You can show yourself out" I quickly look at him over my shoulder, to see the typical 'I told you so' smile on his face.

I put my confusing feelings and all my worries on a back burner. First thing on my mind is fixing Germany… no, fixing Ludwig

I hope that you like this chapter! Little old Iggy is starting to confuse himself with his growing feelings for Germany. I love writing Confused!England… makes me laugh XD

Let me know what you all think of this story so far, then chapters will be loaded quicker

Thanks ^-^

Also, Before I forget. I've written a short oneshot for FullMetal Alchemist, but it needs editing, is someone willing to read it over before I post it? If you are interested, say so in a review, first come, first served. THANK YOU! XD


	6. Chapter 6

Hello... long time no see, eh? I'm very sorry that I haven't been updating of recent... I have no exuses, so all I will/can say is that I am sorry. Please forgive me?

On other news... I'm going to Crete next tuesday. More than likely, I won't be able to get internet connection for the week. The good news about this is that I am taking my netbook with me, so I will try to write some new chapters :)

So... without further ado the newest chapter of Broken Berlin

Grabbing the injured reluctant German's hand, I start to drag him to the bathroom down the hall. I feel a strange tingle trickle up my arm and my stomach starts jumping around like part of a rave; I don't understand what the hell is wrong with me. Ludwig trips and stumbles a few times, thankfully not loosing his balance completely otherwise I would be trapped between the wooden floor and Lud-

'NO!' I mentally scold myself 'Don't you dare finishing that train of thought'

Gently, I open the door to the bathroom and push Ludwig down onto the edge of the copper bath. As I turn back to fetch my first aid kit, I turn back to the kraut and point a finger at him, face not betraying the torrent of opposing emotions underneath.

"Stay" And with that, I walk away. Going back the way I had just come, I pop my head into my office. Shaking my head and allowing myself a smile as I stare at the antique vase, now full of beautiful red and white roses. Quickly, I step inside and breathe in the relaxing aroma of the roses. Buried within the lush green stems is a note. Slowly, careful not to catch my hand of the thorns, I pull out the note.

_To find the most beautiful roses, you must brave its thorns._

_Good luck with Mr Germany_

_Harrison_

_P.S. There is wurst in the pantry._

"God damned moron" I mutter good naturedly. I replace the note in its original place, and then continue down the hall to get the first aid kit. Once in my hands, I hurry back to the injured blonde in my bathroom. Like the gentleman I am, I knock on the door and wait for an affirming noise from the other side.

"Yeah Arthur, come in. It's your house after all" I open the door and place the kit on the toilet seat cover.

"I was just being polite" I grumble, this makes the normally uptight German burst into laughter – which quickly turn to coughs. My brow – and "enormous" eyebrows – furrow with worry.

Mutely, I get to work on cleaning the German's wounds. I work my way down; starting with the ones on his face and neck, then to his shoulder. While I swab away any blood, I feel Germany's head fall to rest on my shoulder. Shocked by this extremely out of character display of affection, I stiffen… then melt and softly stroke is hair.

'As soft as down feathers' I note.

TBC

Thank you for reading the latest chapter, please review... It'll help me write the next chapter quicker.


	7. Chapter 7

Okay... so here's the next chapter. I apologise for the giant sporadic-ness of my updating... but there Is nothing I can do *begs for forgiveness*

Hope you all enjoy :)

With Germany all cleared up, I gently lead him back to the spare room – now his room, I guess – and sit him down onto the bed. Quietly, I walk over to the dresser and pull out a pair of Ludwig's jeans and a black turtle-neck top, I assume that Harrison took the liberty in unpacking our bags... I must remember to give him a sizeable Christmas bonus, and place the folded clothes onto his lap. I run a hand through his hair and watch as it falls back to into place over his forehead.

"Hurry up and get dress Ludwig" I say to him, a small smile playing on my face as I walk to the door. "... That is unless you want me to make dinner" he shudders at the thought, I'm not sure whether I should be amused or insulted by this, and nods at me. I close the door behind me and walk down the stair and through the living room to the kitchen. I pull out two beers and the packet of wurst that Harrison had mentioned out of the pantry and onto the granite top. As I open both the bottles, I turn the oven on to warm up. Taking a long drag from one of the bottles, I hear soft footsteps pad down the stairs, getting closer to where I am.

"There's a bottle of beer here for you Ludwig" pulling the bottle from my mouth, I mention at the other bottle as Ludwig walks in.

"Danke" he grabs the bottle then looks at the pack of wurst, gasping quietly in astonishment "Mein gott! These are gut wurst Eng- Arthur. How did you get zem?" He turns to look at me.

"Oh... I have my ways, my friend" I smile and wink at him.

I watch him cook our dinner from my perch atop one of the counter-tops. Every move he makes is precise and with a decisive purpose. He is as efficient in the kitchen as he is on the battlefield... such fluidity, yet with the same sterilized go-by-the-book attitude fuelling every movement. It will take time for me to fully trust him again, even if in the bottom of my heart and in my very soul I know that he only did the things he did in the war because of his maniacal boss... the wounds on my body and on my country can't be expected to heal straight away, it's going to take time; I just hope that I have time to pull myself back together, especially if America and Russia – the USSR – keep on heading where they are at the moment.

"Arthur, dinner is done" I look up to see Germany's face inches away from mine. We both stop dead still, staring at the other, neither daring to move. I feel my face grow hot as one half of my brain, the pirate/empire side of me, order me to "plunder" my German friend's mouth. The other half of my brain, the more rational side, telling me to punch him in the face and run. Before I can do anything, Ludwig has already stumbled backwards, letting me melt to the floor.

An awkward silence falls.

"... We should eat before the food gets cold, ja?"

"... y-yes"


	8. Chapter 8

7 months later (yeah I know I am missing 7 months, but it will make sense)

The first world meeting since the end of WW2 starts today, here in England. Japan is now is China's custody, just like Germany is in mine, and, as far as I know, Spain and Austria are taking care of Italy and Romano and Russia has control of East Germany. I haven't seen America since I have taken custody of Germany, but from what I hear via Canada, America is sizing up on his nuclear research. Both Canada and I are worried because Russia is also increasing his nuclear research. I have also heard that Soviet troops have yet to leave northern European countries that he had "liberated".

I'm getting really worried; I know for a fact that if America and Russia don't stop this bullshit, the world is – once again – going to be plunged into war… But none of us will survive this nuclear war.

I am up and out of bed by 5:25am. Dressed in a black suit, white shirt and green tie by 5:40am. Quietly, I tip-toe to my office and quickly check all my notes and place them into my briefcase – in chronological order, of course – this takes around 15minutes. I then take my now ready briefcase to the coat-stand near the door and leave it there for me to pick up on the way out. Putting the water to boil, I prepare two cups and wake up Germany.

"Ludwig…" Poke "Ludwig…" Poke. He groans and cracks one eye open, then closes it again and pushes himself up. "get dressed Ludwig, the world meeting is today." I whisper to him.

"… then why do I have to get up?"

"Because your part of the world, git." I thought that was obvious?

"Ja, ja I know zat, but I'm under your control, ja?"

"yes, but what is being discussed it of importance to everyone" I walk back to the door, then turn "anyway, I thought you'd want to see Japan, Italy and Gilbert… they should be there" I leave him to get dressed and walk back downstairs, just in time for the water to boil. I pour myself a cup and add milk. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Germany walk calmly in, wearing a plain deep brown suit. It really sets off his eyes...

Don't start thinking about that Arthur, not today of all days.

We both quickly drink our beverages in silence then walk to the front door. On the way out, we each grab our respective coats, and I pick up my briefcase, and we walk to the car waiting for us.

"good morning, Sir, Mr. Beilschmidt" Harrison says as we pull away from the house.

"Good Morning Harrison" I stretch my arms and place them down beside me, one finds the bottom window sill and the other- oh...

My left hand rests softly on another fleshy warm appendage. I glance to the side, Christ! I-i-it's Ludwig's hand. Feeling my face heat up faster than an Italian can surrender, I pull my hand away as if I had been burned and continue to stare out of the window for the rest of the journey.

A.N. I must admit, I was pretty disappointed with the amount of reviews for chapter 7... or lack there-of. Knowing the you guys/girls are reading and enjoying the story motivates me. However I would like to thank hawkmaskwarrior, your review motivated me to writing the 2nd half of this chapter ^_^ *offers hawkmashwarrior cookies and a hug* so... please review readers?


	9. Chapter 9

Here's Chapter 9! I appologise that the chapters have gotten shorter, but this way i can get them out a little quicker. so... enjoy! XD

At 7:30 sharp, people start to filter in. First to walk in is the Asian countries – Taiwan, Hong Kong, China, South Korea, Vietnam, Thailand and Japan. They all head straight to their allotted chairs silently. As they walk, china looks over at me and nods his head, which I return. I then look to the nation next to China, Japan, he looks truly and utterly beaten. His eyes her sunken and lifeless, skin even paler than normal. He is wearing a baggy white shirt, and plain black trousers and shoes. Peaking out of the neck and the arms is bandages. I sigh. I hate how defeated Kiku looks, I just wish that our alliance had lasted longer. Hmm... in the first break, I must go and talk to my fellow island nation, I believe that it'll be good for both of us.

Next to walk in is Canada, America and France. Canada walks quickly over to me and I engulf him in a hug, which he reciprocates immediately.

"How are you doing dad?" He mutters, even lower than he normally talks.

I sigh and pull my shirt neck closer, in a vein attempt to hide the bandages, that are faintly stained with red, surrounding my neck. At this motion I see, from the corner of my eye, I see Germany's eyes cloud momentarily with regret and guilt then fall back to the coffee cup gripped tightly in his hands. "I'm satisfactory, son" I pull away from the hug and walk him to where tea and coffee is. As he makes himself a cup of tea, 3 sugars and milk, I keep my eyes on the wall, avoiding the Frog and the Yank... until a pair of hands wrap around my waist and i'm pulled backwards into a hard muscular chest.

"Hey Iggy. We need to talk. Now."

… Help...

*Germany's POV*

I stare sadly down at the contents of my coffee cup, swilling it gently as it cools. My mind is aflutter, emotions keep swirling around in my head, like the coffee in my cup.

Anger Guilt Pain Greif Sadness Happiness Hate Betrayal Jealousy

... Love

I look up and lock eyes with Japan, who looks even worse than I feel, I smile melancholy at him, which he bows his head and strikes a conversation with China. My smile falls and my eye slide over too England, I mean Arthur. He looks so wore out, and i'm the reason why. I would give anything just to take back what I did to everyone... no, what I did to Arthur. Meine gott I'm confused by it all.

He stares intently at the wall, while Canada – no way am I going to forget Canada again... not since I saw him on the battlefield – makes himself a drink. They really do have similar hair colour, I muse to myself.

"Hey Iggy. We Need to talk. Now" My eyes jog at the surprised yelp that escapes from Arthur as he is pulled against America's chest and dragged out of the room – despite his struggling. I grind my teeth and narrow my eyes at the obtuse Yank takes my Arthur from me...

'my' Arthur...?

A.N.

Thanks for reading! and thank you to the people that reviewed the last chapter, your support helped me get this out quicker... hinthint XD


	10. Chapter 10

Hi *waves nervously* sorry it took so long but this chapter was lost twice… first on a missing memory stick and in a blackout the file was killed TTATT hope you all forgive me.

Please let me know what you think of this chapter… pretty please?

*England's POV*

As I am dragged down the hallway, I keep on struggling, trying to get back to the meeting room. Christ, this is on a par with the time France tried to force me to marry him. Wait… I don't recognize this part of the building.

"America, you bloody child, put me down. NOW!" I growl at the Yank through my teeth.

"Geez, keep your panties on Iggy." He drops me onto my feet. I stumble slightly, then dust myself off and straighten up to my full height.

"Okay, so… what is so important that you felt the incessant need to pick me up and drag me away a damsel in distress from one of your crappy cliché romance movies?" Crossing my arms over my chest, I stare intently up at my former colony.

"Well…" He sings "… If your gonna to act like a sour puss, I'm not gonna tell ya!"

"Just tell me, git" I roll my eyes and tap my foot against the wooden floor impatiently.

"Well, what I'm going to tell you is very sensitive information…" He slowly walks towards me, smirk growing on his face. I take small steps backwards – not that I'm trying to keep my distance or anything – until my back hits the wall. He keeps on advancing until he stands less than a briefcase width away from me. Leisurely, he rests his right palm on the wall next to my head and leans in. Panicked, I press myself closer to the wall. He bears down on my ear and whispers to me.

"It's of the highest security clearance… sure you can handle it, my little Artie?"

"A-A-America, now see h-here-" Then his lips are pushed, rather forcefully, against my un-yielding ones. I stand, forced against the wall, with America's chapped lips moving over mine, trying to force my compliancy.

No. This is wrong. No. This isn't right. I don't want to be kissed by Alfred. Only by…

*Ludwig's POV*

An awkward silence is left in the wake of Alfred "kidnapping" Arthur, everyone staring dumbfounded at the door. Three minutes later, France breaks the silence with his trademark laugh.

"Ohonononon~ Looks like _Angleterre_'s going to get some!"

Shut up you _Idiotisch pervers. _I narrow my eyes at the flamboyant Frenchman but turn away as I hear the door open. Hoping that it was England was the one to walk through the door, I am disappointed. Spain, lounging on a stern faced Austria with both north and south Italy trailing closely behind. Upon seeing France and I, Spain and north Italy (respectively) bound over and jump onto us. France is knocked to the floor by the force, whereas I stay standing.

"Germany! Germany! How have you been, Germany? I've been really good. Spain's being really nice to me, Austria too. Romano's still grumpy, but my hug therapy is helping. Only last week Romano wanted to cuddle while we where in bed. It was reaaaally nice." I let all of Italy's babble wash over me, just nodding at the right times. "Ooh, ooh! JAPAN!" he unlatches himself from me, only to near rugby tackle Japan off his chair. Italy doesn't seem to notice Kiku's grimace of pain and small intake of breath. Empathizing with Japan, I walk over to the two and pick him up, setting him back on his own legs – much to the energetic Italian's displeasure.

"Hallo Japan" I bow to him as a sign of respect, greeting him in a low voice.

"And to you Germany-san" He bows back to me, with a small intake of breath that I pretend not to notice – thank _gott _that Italy is so unobservant.

"I hope that you are well."

"Hai, I am. And I hope that you are well also"

"Ja, ja I am-"

"Kiku! China's going to loose it with Korea."

He signs dispondantly. "We will talk later, hai?"

"Ja" "Si!" Japan then walks back to his siblings, leaving Italy and I in an awkward silence.

"You never did say how you are, Germany…"

*England's POV*

I shove America off me with as much force as I can muster.

"What the bloody hell was that?" I spit at him venomously. He stares at me, a heart broken yet determined gleam shining in the blue orbs

"It was a kiss… duh." He stalks back over to me and shoves me back into the wall, try as I might I can't get away. Struggling, I kick his shins and stamp on his feet – it does nothing – I even go as far as to try and punch him in the face but he pins my hands above my head. My eyes open wide in fear as Alfred dips down and captures my lips in a bruising kiss.

"Greetings Comrades" America stops the kiss and growls at the newcomer. I turn my head to see the innocent smile of…


	11. Chapter 11

Haha... hi, yeah i know long time no see, but Broken Berlin is OFFICIALLY BACK! [... yay...]  
>so yeah, hope this is okay. no clue when chapter 12 will be up, but will be before 2014<br>Enjoy guys, review please?

*England's POV*  
>"Russia" America growls at the child-like country through his teeth, "Get the hell out of here, this has nothing to do with your commie ass" I try to slowly shuffle away from the frustrated American, only to be grabbed, rather hard mind you, by the arm and pulled back to him. Letting out an exasperated sigh I start struggling again.<br>A childish smile spreads over the Russian nation's face, "I am the Soviet Union, Da?" Then, stepping towards us, he pulls America's arms from around me, as easy as opening cupboard doors, and gently takes me out of the Yank's reach, standing me behind him. I stare shocked at the tall beige haired man.  
>"Why don't you go back to the meeting, milaya Anglii, while America and I... have a little talk, da?" He looks at me, his eyes unusually soft similar to how he used to look before he became the Soviet Union – maybe there still a small part of the more or less sane Russian we all knew -, and then stares intently at America, who looks ready to beat the pulp out of my "savior". I give Russia a brief nod of thanks, then walk – okay... ran - away as quick as possible. As I reach the double doors leading to the meeting room, I faintly hear shouting from where I had come from. Shaking my head to clear it, I take a deep breath and walk back into the meeting, as if it had never happened.<br>*Ludwig's POV*  
>I keep anxiously looking at the door; it takes all my will to stop myself from chasing after the two blondes.<br>"Germany...? Germany? Germany?!" I jump out of my glaring at the door to look at Italy, gripping my shoulder tightly shaking it lightly  
>"Oh! Erm, sorry Italy... what did you say?" my eyes slowly get dragged back to the door<br>"I wanna know how you are Germany..."  
>"Oh... Ja, I'm fine Italy. Don't worry about me" I reassured the dopey Italian, who smiled back at me absentminded.<br>Just as I was about to ask Italy how he and his brother were being treated, China told us to take our seats. We do so, Italy happily skipping along, holding my arm in his familiar vice-like grip. Normally I would try to pull my arm away or scold him; neither would usually work, however today I decided to let his clingy and childish nature slide... only this once. I mean, who knows when we'd be allowed to see each other again, might as well savour every moment we can. As we approach the chairs, a sullen faced Romano stalks up to us, head low and shoulders hunched forward in defence. "Masters France and Spain say you have to join them now... or we'll be in t-trouble again" Italy's grasp becomes even tighter, making me wince as pain shoots up to my injured shoulder and to my banging head. Hugging me quickly, he whispered quietly into my ear, so quietly I only just heard him say the words "Arrivederci, Santo Roma... Doitsu" and they were gone in a flash, bowing to France quickly before sitting down between his brother, who now I realise is looking terrible, eyes sunken and skin pale and waxy, his curl hanging limply and lifeless almost blending into his usually shiny hair. My slight frown only deepens when I see a flustered and messier-than-usual haired England sneak through the door then, closing his eyes to compose himself he walks to the seat next to me, situated between Canada and myself.  
>"Aiya... where have America and Russia gone?" China asks as he sweeps his soy brown eyes to check if everyone was here. As if on que the two countries in question walk in and storm away to opposite ends of the table, Russia with his terrified and shaking Baltics Trio, and America with France, China and an ill looking Japan.<br>"... let's get started then, aru. Mr. Switzerland, care to start?" I pull out a notebook and fountain pen and ready to take notes.

Translations:

Russian:  
>milaya Anglii – sweet England<p>

Italian:  
>Arrivederci, Santo Roma... – Goodbye, Holy Rome<p>

Japanese:  
>Doitsu - Germany<p> 


End file.
